Sunday, April 10, 2016

Two questions to answer


This is a follow up to a recent program I ran for a group of business people at the Curtin Business School Centre for Entrepreneurship. I have changed the names of the participants to ensure privacy.

Well, that was fun and, as always I was stunned by the differences. All right, so you looked like many groups before you:
            Dominated by the SJs (sensing judging)
            Only 4 SPs (sensing perceiving)
            One only NT (intuitive thinker)
            One only NF (intuitive feeler)

But you behaved as group like there were more of the others, the wacky SPs and NFs. Which was why you were able to distract me so easily from my line, my plan, my tasks.

As a consequence, I forgot to answer two important questions posed by Anthony and Phillipa (name changes).

And so I will do my best now, if you will allow me to see it all the way through without further distraction.

Love
Do difference profiles show their love differently? Yes they do.
Let’s use as examples two people we have got to know a little – Jon (ENFP) (no name change) and Hildegard (ISTJ) (name change) . They have been together for over 40 years now and it has not been easy, not for Hildy, who thought she knew what normal was and always thought she would marry it, or Jon, who knew what normal was and never thought he’d marry it.
There was a time in the relationship when Hildy was almost convinced Jon didn’t quite love her, because if he did he would have done the dishes before she got home from work, or made the bed every so often, or not been so untidy around the house.
This was because people with Hildy’s profile generally show their love by Doing. She showed her love by cooking his favourite meal, by ironing his pants, by sorting his side of the wardrobe.
Meanwhile, about the same time, Jon was almost convinced Hildy didn’t quite love him because she sometimes had to be reminded to hug, didn’t surprise him with random gifts and didn’t whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
This was because people with Jon’s profile generally show their love by loving, with sudden romantic outbursts featuring random gifts, weekends away and lots of smooch and sweet in the ear and other parts.
The difference is dramatic and many have expressed wonder at their survival but they have not only lasted, they have flourished, because in difference there is mystery, strength, and fun to be had.

Shifting Profiles
Does a person’s profile change over time? Well, yes, but also no.
The theory is that your profile is fixed but around the middle of your life, as though tired and exhausted by being yourself, you tend to explore your other sides, or preferences.
This is good and puts you on a path towards what Carl Jung called individuation, or wholeness, completeness. And you can only be complete when you are able to operate in all preferences.
And now let’s take Hildy again, because she is not, after all, an ISTJ. She is, in fact, an ISFJ.
How did we come to this and after so many years?
Hildy was first profiled in the late 1990s, primarily by questionnaire. About ten years ago, after I began using a different questionnaire, she completed another form and came out ISFJ.
We discussed this seeming shift for two weeks and she came to the realisation that she had always been an ISFJ, but had taken on the toughness of the more rational, and more masculine, T, in order to protect herself from a difficult father.
And to help her protect her mother from the same man.
What did this mean to us? It meant that instead of Hildy giving herself a hard time over what she had perceived as a weakness, she was able to embrace her emotional self and see it as a strength.
And, of course, we have lived even more happily ever since.



ISTJ
Detached and factual ISTJs often find it difficult to deal with emotions as they see this as irrational and when others display emotions they have to translate the emotion into factual language that they can understand.
Deep and private ISTJs will tend to keep their feelings to themselves and until they have the measure of people will be unlikely to proactively share their feelings. Too much interaction sucks their energies.

ISFJ
The ISFJ is an emotional type, but may struggle at times to deal with these, as they are so private and reflective. It may be possible to deeply offend an ISFJ and not realise it, so private are they.
Once allowed close the ISFJ will open up but it will take time and they are not naturally forthcoming. This may mean it emerges in small chunks, often off the back of other conversations.


Saturday, April 9, 2016

Getting to a point ... or not

This blog first appeared in The West Australian, as one of my weekly columns. Then I posted it on another blog, one where I put all my weekly columns. Then I posted it on another blog which has since changed its brief and, so, in order to keep it alive, I post it here. If you have read it previously, on another blog, sorry, go have a cuppa while someone else runs their eye over it.
It’s an inconvenient truth, but we’re all different.
When I’m not writing this column, I work with a number of psychological models, all of them based on the work of a Swiss bloke called Carl Gustav Jung.
Jung, a psychiatrist and psychotherapist, was for many years a great mate of Sigmund Freud, an Austrian neurologist and father of psychotherapy.
They had a helluva time in the beginning, lots of hi-teas and late night conversations, but then Jung went and wrote a couple of books Freud didn’t appreciate, or understand, or the pages were stuck together. I can’t remember.
Jung also made up his own mind about a couple of things Freud was very keen on and one day blurted out: “Oedipus, smedipus, give it a break, Siggy.”
Or something like that. Or nothing like that but whatever it was it was the end of their relationship.
All these models I work with are based on Jung’s book, Personality Types, first published in German in 1921.
When I’m not hard at it thumping words into keyboards, that’s what I do, not that I need to work, of course, because this column, as you can imagine, pays a lot of money, more than enough to pay the mortgage, the small loan on the other property, the big loan on the private jet, send all the kids to private schools and make sizeable contributions towards the International Monetary Fund debts of several South American nations.
One of the characteristics of a person with my particular profile is that we are easily distracted and tend to go on a bit in a way that seems to have very little to do with the point we are trying to make. Have you noticed?
Now, the beauty of a simple psychological mode is that it helps you come to grips with the fact that there is a kind of mind that will answer the simple question “How much are you paid to write that crap?” with a simple answer: “$50”.
What the model helps you realise is that most minds you interact with operate differently and people are not being the way they are in order to intimidate you, or incite you, it’s just the way they are.
Then again, some folk just can’t help being pricks, whatever their personality types.
Then there is another kind of mind, like the one I mentioned earlier, that will seem to disappear into a surreal world of crazy references, contradictions and weird juxtapositions, when all you wanted was a simple: “$50.”
You might have guessed by now, mine is a bit like that.
So is Terry Gilliam’s, the film director of Brazil, Baron Munchausen and the creator of the graphics for Monty Python. So was John Lennon’s. And Bill Cosby’s.
The strait forward mind, very much like the one my dad had, sees everything for what it is, nothing more, or less.
Hildegard has a mind like that too and often I would take a phone call from dad to be told: “Put your wife on will you. I need to talk some sense.”
The problem is, of course, those people with the seemingly crazy mind think the people with the strait-forward mind are boring and those with the strait-forward mind think those with the crazy mind have overdosed on some mind altering substance.
So, you can see why dad and I didn’t see mind to mind.
Mind you, he had a great sense of humour, and once said to a Manjimup Shire Officer who told him he couldn’t write on the pavement: “Didn’t I pay half the cost of this pavement? Right. Well the top half’s mine and the bottom half’s yours.”
Dad and Hildegard were pretty much aligned in most aspects of their personalities, but, at the same time, they were very different. Why? Good question.
Well, for a start, Hildy is a woman and dad was a man and dad was a born and raised Aussie, whereas Hildy was born and raised in Holland.
So, from time to time, if you have been reading this column and heard yourself saying “I wish he’d get to the bloody point”, it might be that you are not like me and need a point, while my point might be that I don’t.
This blog first appeared in The West Australian, as one of my weekly columns. Then I posted it on another blog, one where I put all my weekly columns. Then I posted it on another blog which has since changed its brief and, so, in order to keep it alive, I post it here. If you have read it previously, on another blog, sorry, go have a cuppa while someone else runs their eye over it.
It’s an inconvenient truth, but we’re all different.
When I’m not writing this column, I work with a number of psychological models, all of them based on the work of a Swiss bloke called Carl Gustav Jung.
Jung, a psychiatrist and psychotherapist, was for many years a great mate of Sigmund Freud, an Austrian neurologist and father of psychotherapy.
They had a helluva time in the beginning, lots of hi-teas and late night conversations, but then Jung went and wrote a couple of books Freud didn’t appreciate, or understand, or the pages were stuck together. I can’t remember.
Jung also made up his own mind about a couple of things Freud was very keen on and one day blurted out: “Oedipus, smedipus, give it a break, Siggy.”
Or something like that. Or nothing like that but whatever it was it was the end of their relationship.
All these models I work with are based on Jung’s book, Personality Types, first published in German in 1921.
When I’m not hard at it thumping words into keyboards, that’s what I do, not that I need to work, of course, because this column, as you can imagine, pays a lot of money, more than enough to pay the mortgage, the small loan on the other property, the big loan on the private jet, send all the kids to private schools and make sizeable contributions towards the International Monetary Fund debts of several South American nations.
One of the characteristics of a person with my particular profile is that we are easily distracted and tend to go on a bit in a way that seems to have very little to do with the point we are trying to make. Have you noticed?
Now, the beauty of a simple psychological mode is that it helps you come to grips with the fact that there is a kind of mind that will answer the simple question “How much are you paid to write that crap?” with a simple answer: “$50”.
What the model helps you realise is that most minds you interact with operate differently and people are not being the way they are in order to intimidate you, or incite you, it’s just the way they are.
Then again, some folk just can’t help being pricks, whatever their personality types.
Then there is another kind of mind, like the one I mentioned earlier, that will seem to disappear into a surreal world of crazy references, contradictions and weird juxtapositions, when all you wanted was a simple: “$50.”
You might have guessed by now, mine is a bit like that.
So is Terry Gilliam’s, the film director of Brazil, Baron Munchausen and the creator of the graphics for Monty Python. So was John Lennon’s. And Bill Cosby’s.
The strait forward mind, very much like the one my dad had, sees everything for what it is, nothing more, or less.
Hildegard has a mind like that too and often I would take a phone call from dad to be told: “Put your wife on will you. I need to talk some sense.”
The problem is, of course, those people with the seemingly crazy mind think the people with the strait-forward mind are boring and those with the strait-forward mind think those with the crazy mind have overdosed on some mind altering substance.
So, you can see why dad and I didn’t see mind to mind.
Mind you, he had a great sense of humour, and once said to a Manjimup Shire Officer who told him he couldn’t write on the pavement: “Didn’t I pay half the cost of this pavement? Right. Well the top half’s mine and the bottom half’s yours.”
Dad and Hildegard were pretty much aligned in most aspects of their personalities, but, at the same time, they were very different. Why? Good question.
Well, for a start, Hildy is a woman and dad was a man and dad was a born and raised Aussie, whereas Hildy was born and raised in Holland.
So, from time to time, if you have been reading this column and heard yourself saying “I wish he’d get to the bloody point”, it might be that you are not like me and need a point, while my point might be that I don’t.
- See more at: http://myersbriggsaustralia.blogspot.com.au/#sthash.AFvJ2Zfb.dpuf

From the archives

First posted in 2009.
 
I have many introverted friends. Many I love dearly.
I am not one of them. Extraversion is my preference.
When they, on many occasions, extravert with gusto, I am thrilled and sit in awe as they take over a room, work it, squeeze it, toss it up, let it fall, then rework it all over again.
Fabulous.
When they are done, one thing I never do is sidle up to them and ask: "You all right? Wow, such a performance. You're not ill, are you? Is everything all right? You sure? Have I upset you, intimidated you? There's nothing wrong, is there?"
Why would there be?
It's clear:
- they are with friends
- they feel comfortable
- they feel confident
- they enjoy the rush
Ok, what is my point?
Good question.
It sometimes takes me time.
Some of these friends, in particular those very close to me, if I happen to introvert for a period, an hour, or more, or a week, ask me: "Are you ok? Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? Are you upset about something I said?"
If there is nothing wrong, and for the most part there is not, I reply: "No, I'm introverting. From time to time I need a break. I cannot extravert, constantly, each and every day, forever, without a break. And this is me, doing it, introverting, which means I go quiet, I go inside myself, reflect, think before I speak, you may know about such things. And I like doing it. Gaining more and more confidence each time I do it. It is not my natural preference. It will not last. But I like it. Please let me do it."
Phew.
Recently I finished writing a book, an adult novel, this required much introversion with accompanying reflection and associated research.
In order to write this I had to withdraw, almost completely for periods of intense writing, and I lost count of the number of time I was asked: "Are you sure you are all right?"
Now, when asked, I burst into song:
I am all right
There is nothing wrong
I'm happy
Happy as hell
And leaving for a light meal
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I need to eat
All to the tune of Leaving on a jet plane, the Peter Paul and Mary hit.
It seems to do the trick.
Thanks for listening
I have many introverted friends. Many I love dearly.
I am not one of them. Extraversion is my preference.
When they, on many occasions, extravert with gusto, I am thrilled and sit in awe as they take over a room, work it, squeeze it, toss it up, let it fall, then rework it all over again.
Fabulous.
When they are done, one thing I never do is sidle up to them and ask: "You all right? Wow, such a performance. You're not ill, are you? Is everything all right? You sure? Have I upset you, intimidated you? There's nothing wrong, is there?"
Why would there be?
It's clear:
- they are with friends
- they feel comfortable
- they feel confident
- they enjoy the rush
Ok, what is my point?
Good question.
It sometimes takes me time.
Some of these friends, in particular those very close to me, if I happen to introvert for a period, an hour, or more, or a week, ask me: "Are you ok? Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? Are you upset about something I said?"
If there is nothing wrong, and for the most part there is not, I reply: "No, I'm introverting. From time to time I need a break. I cannot extravert, constantly, each and every day, forever, without a break. And this is me, doing it, introverting, which means I go quiet, I go inside myself, reflect, think before I speak, you may know about such things. And I like doing it. Gaining more and more confidence each time I do it. It is not my natural preference. It will not last. But I like it. Please let me do it."
Phew.
Recently I finished writing a book, an adult novel, this required much introversion with accompanying reflection and associated research.
In order to write this I had to withdraw, almost completely for periods of intense writing, and I lost count of the number of time I was asked: "Are you sure you are all right?"
Now, when asked, I burst into song:
I am all right
There is nothing wrong
I'm happy
Happy as hell
And leaving for a light meal
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I need to eat
All to the tune of Leaving on a jet plane, the Peter Paul and Mary hit.
It seems to do the trick.
Thanks for listening. - See more at: http://myersbriggsaustralia.blogspot.com.au/#sthash.5MIizdAK.dpuf
I have many introverted friends. Many I love dearly.
I am not one of them. Extraversion is my preference.
When they, on many occasions, extravert with gusto, I am thrilled and sit in awe as they take over a room, work it, squeeze it, toss it up, let it fall, then rework it all over again.
Fabulous.
When they are done, one thing I never do is sidle up to them and ask: "You all right? Wow, such a performance. You're not ill, are you? Is everything all right? You sure? Have I upset you, intimidated you? There's nothing wrong, is there?"
Why would there be?
It's clear:
- they are with friends
- they feel comfortable
- they feel confident
- they enjoy the rush
Ok, what is my point?
Good question.
It sometimes takes me time.
Some of these friends, in particular those very close to me, if I happen to introvert for a period, an hour, or more, or a week, ask me: "Are you ok? Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? Are you upset about something I said?"
If there is nothing wrong, and for the most part there is not, I reply: "No, I'm introverting. From time to time I need a break. I cannot extravert, constantly, each and every day, forever, without a break. And this is me, doing it, introverting, which means I go quiet, I go inside myself, reflect, think before I speak, you may know about such things. And I like doing it. Gaining more and more confidence each time I do it. It is not my natural preference. It will not last. But I like it. Please let me do it."
Phew.
Recently I finished writing a book, an adult novel, this required much introversion with accompanying reflection and associated research.
In order to write this I had to withdraw, almost completely for periods of intense writing, and I lost count of the number of time I was asked: "Are you sure you are all right?"
Now, when asked, I burst into song:
I am all right
There is nothing wrong
I'm happy
Happy as hell
And leaving for a light meal
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I need to eat
All to the tune of Leaving on a jet plane, the Peter Paul and Mary hit.
It seems to do the trick.
Thanks for listening. - See more at: http://myersbriggsaustralia.blogspot.com.au/#sthash.5MIizdAK.dpuf

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Please let me be

I have many introverted friends. Many I love dearly.
I am not one of them. Extraversion is my preference.
When they, on many occasions, extravert with gusto, I am thrilled and sit in awe as they take over a room, work it, squeeze it, toss it up, let it fall, then rework it all over again.
Fabulous.
When they are done, one thing I never do is sidle up to them and ask: "You all right? Wow, such a performance. You're not ill, are you? Is everything all right? You sure? Have I upset you, intimidated you? There's nothing wrong, is there?"
Why would there be?
It's clear:
- they are with friends
- they feel comfortable
- they feel confident
- they enjoy the rush
Ok, what is my point?
Good question.
It sometimes takes me time.
Some of these friends, in particular those very close to me, if I happen to introvert for a period, an hour, or more, or a week, ask me: "Are you ok? Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? Are you upset about something I said?"
If there is nothing wrong, and for the most part there is not, I reply: "No, I'm introverting. From time to time I need a break. I cannot extravert, constantly, each and every day, forever, without a break. And this is me, doing it, introverting, which means I go quiet, I go inside myself, reflect, think before I speak, you may know about such things. And I like doing it. Gaining more and more confidence each time I do it. It is not my natural preference. It will not last. But I like it. Please let me do it."
Phew.
Recently I finished writing a book, an adult novel, this required much introversion with accompanying reflection and associated research.
In order to write this I had to withdraw, almost completely for periods of intense writing, and I lost count of the number of time I was asked: "Are you sure you are all right?"
Now, when asked, I burst into song:
I am all right
There is nothing wrong
I'm happy
Happy as hell
And leaving for a light meal
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I need to eat
All to the tune of Leaving on a jet plane, the Peter Paul and Mary hit.
It seems to do the trick.
Thanks for listening.
- See more at: http://myersbriggsaustralia.blogspot.com.au/#sthash.5MIizdAK.dpuf

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Please let me be

I have many introverted friends. Many I love dearly.
I am not one of them. Extraversion is my preference.
When they, on many occasions, extravert with gusto, I am thrilled and sit in awe as they take over a room, work it, squeeze it, toss it up, let it fall, then rework it all over again.
Fabulous.
When they are done, one thing I never do is sidle up to them and ask: "You all right? Wow, such a performance. You're not ill, are you? Is everything all right? You sure? Have I upset you, intimidated you? There's nothing wrong, is there?"
Why would there be?
It's clear:
- they are with friends
- they feel comfortable
- they feel confident
- they enjoy the rush
Ok, what is my point?
Good question.
It sometimes takes me time.
Some of these friends, in particular those very close to me, if I happen to introvert for a period, an hour, or more, or a week, ask me: "Are you ok? Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? Are you upset about something I said?"
If there is nothing wrong, and for the most part there is not, I reply: "No, I'm introverting. From time to time I need a break. I cannot extravert, constantly, each and every day, forever, without a break. And this is me, doing it, introverting, which means I go quiet, I go inside myself, reflect, think before I speak, you may know about such things. And I like doing it. Gaining more and more confidence each time I do it. It is not my natural preference. It will not last. But I like it. Please let me do it."
Phew.
Recently I finished writing a book, an adult novel, this required much introversion with accompanying reflection and associated research.
In order to write this I had to withdraw, almost completely for periods of intense writing, and I lost count of the number of time I was asked: "Are you sure you are all right?"
Now, when asked, I burst into song:
I am all right
There is nothing wrong
I'm happy
Happy as hell
And leaving for a light meal
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I need to eat
All to the tune of Leaving on a jet plane, the Peter Paul and Mary hit.
It seems to do the trick.
Thanks for listening.
- See more at: http://myersbriggsaustralia.blogspot.com.au/#sthash.5MIizdAK.dpuf

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Please let me be

I have many introverted friends. Many I love dearly.
I am not one of them. Extraversion is my preference.
When they, on many occasions, extravert with gusto, I am thrilled and sit in awe as they take over a room, work it, squeeze it, toss it up, let it fall, then rework it all over again.
Fabulous.
When they are done, one thing I never do is sidle up to them and ask: "You all right? Wow, such a performance. You're not ill, are you? Is everything all right? You sure? Have I upset you, intimidated you? There's nothing wrong, is there?"
Why would there be?
It's clear:
- they are with friends
- they feel comfortable
- they feel confident
- they enjoy the rush
Ok, what is my point?
Good question.
It sometimes takes me time.
Some of these friends, in particular those very close to me, if I happen to introvert for a period, an hour, or more, or a week, ask me: "Are you ok? Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? Are you upset about something I said?"
If there is nothing wrong, and for the most part there is not, I reply: "No, I'm introverting. From time to time I need a break. I cannot extravert, constantly, each and every day, forever, without a break. And this is me, doing it, introverting, which means I go quiet, I go inside myself, reflect, think before I speak, you may know about such things. And I like doing it. Gaining more and more confidence each time I do it. It is not my natural preference. It will not last. But I like it. Please let me do it."
Phew.
Recently I finished writing a book, an adult novel, this required much introversion with accompanying reflection and associated research.
In order to write this I had to withdraw, almost completely for periods of intense writing, and I lost count of the number of time I was asked: "Are you sure you are all right?"
Now, when asked, I burst into song:
I am all right
There is nothing wrong
I'm happy
Happy as hell
And leaving for a light meal
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh how I need to eat
All to the tune of Leaving on a jet plane, the Peter Paul and Mary hit.
It seems to do the trick.
Thanks for listening.
- See more at: http://myersbriggsaustralia.blogspot.com.au/#sthash.5MIizdAK.dpuf